La Strega
by Romantique The Original
Summary: A little X Tale for Halloween.  Pre Season 7.


Title: La Strega (1/1)

Author: Romantique

Classification: T Adventure

Rating: K

Distribution: Archive anywhere but email me at

Summary: A little X Tale for Halloween. Pre Season 7.

_Sometime in the autumn of 1999_

Amber light penetrated through crevices that resembled dotted pinholes in worn, wooden walls. With each passing moment, the color of the light intensified from amber to golden to bright white, suggesting that the sun was rising over the horizon. Speckles of dust particles danced as if suspended in the light beams.

Shielding his eyes from one of those beams, FBI Special Agent Fox Mulder awakened, struggling to sit up from where he was sleeping, on a hard, cold dirt floor. The dank, unmistakable odor of mold and mildew hung heavy in the cold air. Breathing the thickened malodorous air was difficult. Mulder involuntarily let out several sharp coughs to clear his lungs of the foul, stale air, and shook his head. Massive cobwebs dangled from each corner of the room, their size only matched by the cobwebs in his head.

Where was he, and how did he get here?

The last thing he remembered was having dinner with his partner, Special Agent Dana Scully. He looked down at his clothes and was surprised to find he was not wearing the suit and tie he wore to the posh Italian restaurant. Now, he found himself dressed in jeans, a t-shirt, and his favorite leather jacket. He clutched the front of his jacket together for warmth.

Surveying his surroundings, he found that he was lying on the floor of a room that was void of any furnishings. From his vantage point, it looked like a one room shack. And from his vantage point, it appeared that he was very much alone.

Confusion spread across his face. Looking at his watch for answers to his questions, he found only the tan line left from its leather strap. Slowly, he began to move his stiff body into a standing position, and he became aware that his left ankle was throbbing. It hurt miserably when he applied any weight to it. Relying on his good leg, he hobbled over to the door frame and grabbed hold for support with one hand. With his other hand, he frantically searched his pockets for his cell phone.

"Where's Scully?" he mumbled to himself.

Fumbling, at last he found the phone in his jacket pocket. He turned on the phone and hit the code for his partner. The phone rang and rang and rang.

"Scully," she routinely answered.

"Scully," he responded, letting out a long sigh of relief.

"Mulder, where are you!" she sounded quite agitated. "Skinner has been looking for you all morning. You haven't returned any of my calls. I don't think I can hold him off much longer."

"I . . . I don't know where I am," he replied almost robotically.

"C'mon, Mulder," she was clearly losing patience. "What do you mean you don't know where you are?"

"I'm serious. I don't know where I am," he tried to convey his sincerity. "I woke up on the floor of what looks like a shack," he said as he opened the door and looked all around. There was a small gravel path leading off into the distance and countryside. The trees had turned spectacular shades of red and gold.

"I'm in a shack in the middle of nowhere," he explained. "And I don't remember how I got here."

"A shack?" she sounded surprised. "You flew to Winston-Salem for some pre-Halloween ghost-busting," she recanted. "I went with you to the gate and watched you get on the plane. And you were supposed to be back at work, yesterday."

"I don't remember any of that," he answered. "The last thing I remember was having dinner with you at La Strega's."

"That was Friday night," the concern in her voice was growing. "Today is Wednesday, October 31st."

Tired of standing on one foot, he grabbed the door facing and slowly lowered himself down to the ground. But as he approached the last two feet, he landed hard with a thud.

"Oooowww," he cried as the impact jars his ankle.

"Mulder. Are you alright?" she immediately responded to his cry.

"Yeah," he gritted his teeth to keep from crying out in pain. "It's my ankle."

"What's wrong with your ankle?" she asked.

"Don't know," he responded. "Just like I don't know how I got where I am.

"Are you bleeding anywhere?" she continued with her mental checklist.

"No," he answered.

"How's your head?" she asked, continuing in physician mode. "Do you think you hit your head?"

"I don't think so. My head's okay," he responded. "Although I must admit, this is very confusing."

"Do you see anything around?" she suggested. "There must be some clues."

"I'm way ahead of you, Scully," he responded in a tone that echoed his feelings of futility. From his low vantage point, he looked out the door, responding, "There is nothing around here but this shack, me and mother nature, as far as the eye can see."

"Okay. I'm going to check on a few things," she said reassuringly. "And I'll call you back in just a few minutes."

"Don't worry. I'm not going anywhere," he quipped and disconnected the call.

_Somewhere near Salem, Massachusetts_

_October 31, 1999_

_1 hour later_

Still sitting propped up against the open door, Mulder answered his ringing cell phone.

"Mulder," Scully began. "We checked your credit card purchases from over the weekend. The records indicate that you rented a car at the airport in Winston-Salem. And you checked into The Cauldron Motel in Salem at noon on Saturday, but have yet to check out. Does any of this sound familiar?"

"I'm afraid not," he responded, sounding a little down. "What kind of a rental car?" he asked.

"A 2001, white Dodge Intrepid. Massachusetts Plate No. 619 AGO," she read from her notes.

"Sorry, I don't remember a rental car," he apologized.

"It's okay," her response was compassionate. "I'm at the airport and will be in Winston-Salem tonight. We've given the local police your description and information and the Boston Bureau will coordinate a search," she tried to convey that they were doing everything possible. "You just hang in there, okay? I'll be there soon."

"Like I said before, I'm not going anywhere," he joked, but neither he nor his partner was laughing.

Upon disconnecting the call, Mulder looked up to find an old woman walking from the path towards the shack.

"Mister, this is private property!" she growled as she approached him. "You are going to have to leave, or I'll call the Police."

"M'am," he responded from his seated position on the ground. "I wish you would call the Police. I need help," he paused. "It's my leg. I can't walk."

"Who are you, and what are you doing on my land?" she continued to snarl through her furrowed brow.

"My name is Fox Mulder. I'm a Federal Agent," he answered, automatically going to his pocket for his badge. But it was not there. "I'm sorry," he looked up at her mean, old face. "My ID is missing. So is my watch."

"You expect me to believe that?" she snarled. "Why should I believe you? I don't know you. You're not from around here."

"Because I have nothing to hide," he answered meekly. "And no, I'm just visiting. By the way, where is _'here'_?"

"You're on my family's farm. Just outside of Salem," she answered. "You're not one of those people who are here looking for Halloween fancy, are you?" she snarled. Many of her teeth were missing. This woman was not attractive.

"Well, I am here looking at the area's colorful sites," he replied. "And I must admit that you are one of the more colorful things I've seen."

"Are you here looking for witches?" she asked, peering through eyes that appear to be clouded with cataracts.

"Why, do you know where I can find one," he quipped.

"You're lookin' at one," she snarled.

As he looked closer at her haggard face, he noticed that she has warts on the end of her nose.

"Ma'm, I wouldn't exactly call you a witch," he carefully replied, trying to be politically correct.

"Well, if you don't believe in me, then I don't believe in you," and she turned on her heel and headed back down the path.

"Hey, wait a minute!" he yelled. "You can't just leave me here."

He gathered his strength and stood up on his good leg. Attempting to go after the old woman, he took one step and almost fell to his knees in agony.

"Ahhhhhh," he yelled and sat back down.

"Damn," he muttered to himself. "I'm not going anywhere."

_Somewhere near Salem, Massachusetts_

_October 31, 1999_

_Dusk_

Mulder woke up inside the shack. He must have dozed off for a time. It was dark and the temperature was dropping. Suddenly, he became aware of the sound of footsteps, and a light appeared from behind the door.

"Scully," he cried out as the door opens.

"What?" It was the old woman, carrying an oil lantern. "What's a Scully? I'm Hilde," she snarled at him. "I came back to see if you were still here."

"Where else would I be," he answered. "I can't walk." He sat up, grabbing onto his ankle in pain, as he rose. "Did you call the Police? I need help."

"There aren't any phones around here," she answered sharply.

"Hilde, I have a phone," he slowly reached into his pocket for his cell. "Just tell the dispatch operator where we are," he pleaded with his eyes.

"I already told you, Mister," she pointed an old crooked digit at his face. "If you don't believe in me, why should I believe in you? You are just a figment of my imagination," she growled through her crooked teeth.

"Believe what, that you're a witch?" he asked. "I believe that anything is possible," he responded.

"But you don't really believe," she countered. "Well, let me see if I can convince you on this Halloween night!"

"You eat at restaurants called La Strega," she growled. "La Strega means The Witch in Italian.

You stay in motels called The Cauldron. And you go ghost busting. You mock us!"

Mulder looked at her in amazement. How did she know where he and Scully had eaten dinner so many days ago and details of their conversations?

She walked toward the center of the room and set the lantern down on the ground.

"How do you think you got here?" she asked with a gleam in her eye. "I'll tell you how you got here. I brought you here!"

"I must admit, Hilde. I don't remember how I got here," he responded.

"That's because I put a spell on you so you wouldn't remember," she laughed.

"Then, tell me," he continued. "What happened to my leg?"

"You tripped over a log out in the woods trying to run away," she was still laughing.

"I don't remember any of that," he said, shaking his head.

"I put a spell on you. And now you have to live here with me for all eternity!" she let out the most diabolical laugh he ever heard.

Mulder tried very hard to not let the displeasure of that thought appear on his face. No point in making a bad situation even worse.

"Ahhh. But Hilde, spells can be broken, right?" he asked. "As a witch, you must tell me that can break the spell!"

"The only thing that can break this spell is the kiss of a fair maiden princess," she said quietly. "But there's no chance of that happening around here, is there?" she gave an evil laugh.

And with that, she picked up the lantern and walked out of the shack. Determined not to let her get away again, Mulder crawled on the floor in an attempt to follow her. He made it to the door, but she had vanished. She was nowhere to be seen.

In the distance, he could hear the baying of wolves. The moon was beginning to light the night sky. Sitting at the door of the shack, he fixated on some lights far in the distance. They appeared to be coming toward him, closer and closer. He continued to watch the lights and felt a thrill as he became convinced this was not a dream. Indeed, the lights were coming closer.

Finally, he heard a familiar voice.

"Mulder!" Scully shouted.

"Scullyeeeeee! Over here," he yelled back.

He saw her running towards him, flanked by uniformed police officers.

"Mulder," she cried as she approached him, and once she reached him, they embraced one another.

"Are you okay?" she asked as she looked deeply into his eyes.

"I am now," he said as his face showed his relief.

"Scully, can I ask you to do something for me?" he asked sheepishly. "Will you kiss me?"

"What?" she asked, caught a little off guard.

"Please. Don't ask any questions," he tried to explain without explaining. "Just kiss me."

"Well, okay," she said. And meekly, she bent down and kissed him on the lips.

A smile formed across his face. And while the officers placed him on a stretcher, in a manic fashion, he began to tell her the story of a spell and the kiss of a fair maiden, La Strega and Hilde, and a Halloween night. Scully and the officers looked at one another, rolling their eyes in great disbelief, as this Hilde person was nowhere to be found. Mulder caught one of those looks.

"All right, Scully," he retorted. "But if you don't believe in me, then I don't believe in you," he grinned. And they all left the shack, setting out into the dark Halloween night.

~fin~


End file.
